Chapter 108
If they hadn’t been in the middle of infiltrating a castle full of Vampires, he might’ve taken a moment to weigh the possibilities, but as soon as Van and Claude reached the top of the stairs, a resounding crash echoed down the hallway as more Vampires of the flying variety burst out of doors on either side of the hallway. They were quickly joined by more wolves and mists, and Jamie didn’t see how they would ever work their way out of this situation.
Footsteps behind him drew his attention back to the stairs as the other teams who were designated to help clear this area arrived, and he breathed easier, especially when he saw the first person up the stairs was Margie. “Get out of the way, little brother,” she shouted as she ran by. “Real men have arrived.”
Jamie was certain she meant herself and stifled a laugh. There was no time for it. Though he was supposed to avoid combat, he was quickly engaged with another mist monster, which he dispatched and then headed off after Van and the rest of their group as they pushed deeper into the castle, leaving the ghouls in the hallway to Margie and the others.
Van seemed to know exactly where she was going, and before long, they reached an interior chamber, hidden behind a secret panel she was somehow able to access. They all came to a sudden halt at the realization of what lie before them. A coffin, large, black, made of marble or some other heavy stone, atop a riser, surrounded by lit candelabras in an otherwise dark room seemed to reveal the location of the beast they hunted.
They were all silent for a moment, anticipating an attack. When none came, Van took a step forward. As she did so, the lid to the coffin came shooting off, knocking half their team over and trapping them beneath the heavy stone. Jamie dodged out of the way, dragging Vanessa by the arm as he did so, and there before them, the most gruesome face he’d ever seen began to materialize as gray vapor traveled in thick plumes out of the coffin to form a body floating in the air above it.
The man’s face was old and haggard, his jowls saggy, and blood stained his teeth and mouth. His eyes were black, a stark contrast to his pale skin, and his hair was long and white, though set in intricate curls, almost like a judge’s wig. His fingernails were easily twice the length of his hands, and as he stared at them, dressed in a bright red velvet dressing gown, there was no doubt in Jamie’s mind who they were looking at.
Before Van could even draw her weapon, Dracula moved right at her, scratching her face so deeply blood spurted across the room. Instinctively, she covered the wound while the others who were still standing prepared to fight. Dracula grabbed the injured arm of the woman Jamie had healed earlier and ripped it clean from her body while reaching for the neck of another Hunter who was standing nearby. A Guardian sent a silver-tipped arrow from his crossbow into Dracula’s chest, but he pulled it out and threw it back, hitting the Guardian in the stomach. Chaos broke out as Dracula headed toward the door, holding the decapitated head of the Hunter he’d attacked in one hand as he floated by.
“Stop him!” Van shouted, and Vanessa, who was the quickest, shot out into the hallway. She was able to slow him down a bit by propelling herself onto his shoulders, but he jerked away from her, just as Van’s crossbow fired several shots, each hitting their target, Dracula’s torso, but none seeming to injure him as much as Van had wanted.
The woman whose arm had been severed moved to give chase as the last of the team staggered from beneath the marble coffin lid. Jamie surveyed the body on the floor and knew he couldn’t help that Hunter, but if he didn’t do something for this woman, she’d bleed to death. “You need a tourniquet,” he said, moving in front of her.
“I’ll be all right,” she insisted, trying to move past him. Shouting from the hallway told him that the others had noticed Dracula attempting to make his way through the castle. She was eager to return to the fray but beads of sweat had broken out across her forehead.
“Sit down and let me fix it, or you will die,” Jamie insisted, his voice even, his tone as serious as possible.
With a sigh, she made to move to the floor and collapsed. Jamie caught her and sat her down near the coffin lid. Opening his bag, he took out the materials he would need to temporarily stop the bleeding, but before he began, he ran his hand quickly over the ends of the blood vessels from her now stump of an arm. While it wouldn’t heal her completely, it would help, and hopefully lessen the pain. He then put on his gloves and went about applying the tourniquet. Once done, he took a canteen out of his bag and made her drink some water. “There,” he said. “But you need to take it easy. You’ll be of no help if you don’t.”
She looked to her friend whose body still lie bleeding all over the stone floor. “And what of Brit? He gave the ultimate sacrifice.”
“Brit was very brave,” Jamie agreed, though he hardly knew the man, “but this is not your final battle. They’ll stop him.” Jamie was confident in the statement; he knew enough of the personnel involved here to believe this was Dracula’s last night on Earth, this time around anyway.
Standing, Jamie reached a hand out and helped her to her feet, steadying her. From the sounds of it, most of the fighting had moved back down the stairs, and he wasn’t surprised at all to see the woman pick up her weapon and rush off, though she was still a little woozy.
Out in the hallway, Jamie saw a few other Healers tending to Hunters with missing limbs, deep wounds, and broken bones. Seeing that most of the wounded were all right for the time being, he rushed over to the stairwell just in time to see Van leap from about halfway up the spiraling staircase to the bottom, screaming as she did so to “Stop him!”
Jamie couldn’t see what was happening around the bend at the bottom of the stairs, but he heard what sounded like the heavy front doors slam shut and then a whooshing sound, followed by a colossal crash. That part of the building shook slightly. He took off down the stairs but was halted at the sight of Van and Claude engaged with Dracula, who was now part mist, part old man. Claude had him by the legs, and Van had a firm grip on his head. She gave a command in Dutch, which Jamie thought must be one of the tactics they used regularly of counter-twisting. It seemed to take longer than normal, as Dracula’s head was simply not detaching from his body.
Out of nowhere, Margie flew from across the room, her head bleeding, as she slammed a large wooden stake, topped with silver, through his chest cavity. The monster gave a deafening roar, and as if the silver had somehow weakened him, he burst into ash, spraying particles of black soot all over the three of them, up the stairs, and across the floor.
The halls of the castle grew eerily silent, as if the rest of the Vampires either imploded along with him, or he was the last of them. Van, who looked more tired than Jamie expected, turned and looked at Margie, offering his sister her hand, and then she clapped Claude on the shoulder before saying, “Let us clear the building.” She looked up at Jamie and tipped her head and then hurried off, he assumed to make sure that was the end of it.
